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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26625805">salience</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceun/pseuds/aceun'>aceun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Worship, Established Relationship, M/M, Osamu continues volleyball after high school and plays for the EJP Raijin, aka sunaosa can't keep their hands off each other and their teammates Suffer for it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:55:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26625805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceun/pseuds/aceun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They were professional athletes playing a sport that required them to constantly jump and dive over hardwood floors. Bruises were nothing new. Still, guilt and fascination pricked his chest while looking at the mark of dark purple stamped on the skin of Suna’s otherwise pale stomach.</p><p>[Suna gets a bruise and Osamu gets distracted.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SunaOsa, sunaosa lol screaming</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>salience</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinsuna/gifts">rinsuna</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sound of light chatter and locker doors clanging shut filled the changing room of the EJP Raijin. Above, the fluorescent lighting buzzed as players tossed away sweat-soaked jerseys for the fresh clothes they switched into on their way home. The heavy slack of exhaustion made their movements slow and languid but even that couldn’t soften the sharp edge of excitement after winning their last match against the Jackals in straight sets. Komori was already corralling people into getting drinks post-brief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu paused from bending to lace his shoes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Suna, what’s that on your stomach?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The skin between Suna’s hip and navel was smeared with a bruise about the shape and color of a small plum.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna’s eyes glanced down to his torso before flicking away, disinterested, as he pulled the rest of his shirt over his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Must’ve happened in the last half when you bumped against me for the block assist,” he said. “I’ll ice it when we get home.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu straightened and stared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Games against the Black Jackals tended to burn his brain cells with a kind of consuming competitive fever, a side effect, he guessed, of seeing his brother’s smug smirk on the opposite side of the net. He remembered overshooting on that assist, catching sight of an opening where Atsumu could force the ball and thinking of nothing but the immediate need to close it. In the process, he left his momentum unchecked and collided heavy against Suna’s side. They’d saved that point, in the end.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unconsciously, Osamu’s fingers reached out to trace the physical evidence of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard a sharp intake of breath and felt the muscles on Suna’s abdomen jump at his touch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were professional athletes playing a sport that required them to constantly jump and dive over hardwood floors. Bruises were nothing new. Still, guilt and fascination pricked his chest while looking at the mark of dark purple stamped on the skin of Suna’s otherwise pale stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a hand cupped at his waist, Osamu ran his thumb in slow circles over the discoloration, following its outer edges to where it started to fade away, careful not to press too hard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Osamu,” said Suna, his voice barely above a murmur. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s eyes flickered up to meet with his. Suna’s mouth was pressed in a tight line but the tips of his ears were flushed a bright red. Osamu felt want, sudden and hot, punch through his gut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A clap rang out in the changing room that had at some point gone quiet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two of them turned to see their teammates pointedly not looking in their direction while Komori, designated spokesman, held out the empty container of protein powder labeled “HORNY JAIL FINE”. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right!” Their libero flashed a grin and shook the plastic canister, jostling the coins and bills collected inside. “You know the rules.”  </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>:::</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a bruise,” said Suna, laying on the couch with his legs draped over Osamu’s lap. His lips quirked as he let out another amused huff. “You’re overreacting.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It got bigger,” said Osamu. He lifted the pack of ice pops wrapped in paper towels from Suna’s stomach to peer more closely at the patch of skin. “And darker,” he added with a frown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure that’s what bruises do,” Suna replied dryly. He took the frozen pack from Osamu’s hand and set it on the low table next to the couch. “Besides, I already told you it was worth it for the look on Atsumu’s face when we stuffed him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Straight sets,” Osamu said, recalling their win. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Straight fuckin’ sets,” Suna crowed, squinting his eyes into a pleased smirk. “Wish I had my phone with me to take a picture. Maybe one of his fans uploaded a fancam on Youtube.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu hummed offhandedly as his mouth curled into a soft smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Winning had always been satisfying, filling, like the aftermath of tucking into a good meal. But lately he’d been starting to think that winning with Suna belonged in a whole new category. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes their eyes would meet on court, snapping towards each other right after scoring a point or taking a set, and every inch of him would feel like live wire, electricity buzzing in his teeth. Osamu could swallow thunder, in those moments; he could spit out miracles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu realized he was in love with Suna in high school. It took three more years for them to figure out it was mutual—two more to move in together. After that, time ebbed and stretched between them, coalesced into </span>
  <em>
    <span>chuupet</span>
  </em>
  <span> pops in the freezer and cooking utensils on the counter, two pairs of shoes criss-crossed on the doorway and toothbrushes bumping bristles on the bathroom sink. Home. Suna. It felt right in a way that was bone-deep, how those two were now one and the same.   </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hands framed on both sides of Suna’s torso, Osamu slowly leaned down to press his mouth against Suna’s bare stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard Suna let out a shuddering breath in response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu continued to trail kisses from the dip of his navel to the jut of his hip bone, taking his time to map the familiar territory memorized over the years—every curve, mole, scar. When his lips brushed against the chilled area of the bruise, he paused for a moment to stare at the dark purple smudge, this unexpected guest that would camp out on Suna’s skin for a week before yellowing, dissolving, returning to what it was before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna’s fingers ran through his hair and tugged gently on his scalp. Osamu raised his head to look at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to be so careful,” said Suna, quiet but with a sharp intensity to his stare. That too, thought Osamu, was familiar. “I won’t break.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu took Suna’s hand and kissed the curve of his knuckles. “I know,” he said, “I just want to look at you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, Suna turned his face to the side and bit his lip, avoiding his gaze. “Embarrassing,” he muttered, ears once again bright red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For me or for you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For both of us.” Suna let his wrist fall against his forehead. “I can’t believe we had to pay the PDA fine again. That’s the fourth time this month. At this point we might as well put down an advance deposit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu ran his hand over Suna’s side, playing with the edges of Suna’s shirt. “Who even came up with the fine?” he asked, amused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Komori.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” </span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it only began after that time Washio walked in on us,” Suna pointed out. “Because someone forgot to lock the door.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s mouth twitched at the memory. “I was distracted,” he said. He slipped his hand under his shirt and dragged his palm across Suna’s chest, feeling him shiver at his touch. “You were too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Suna agreed, swallowing thickly. “We’ve got to stop giving them our money.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu laughed, warmed by a sudden rush of love for the man tangled on this couch with him, who he staggered home from practice with every night and woke up next to every morning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there any way I can distract you from our current financial situation?” he teased. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna pushed Osamu’s shoulders back with two fingers before leaning forward to meet him halfway. He pressed a kiss against Osamu’s lips, the way he did a hundred times before but still managed to catch him by surprise years later. Everything with Suna was both familiar and brand new, Osamu was realizing, and Osamu wanted a dozen lifetimes of learning what that meant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna smiled slyly against his mouth as he pulled away from the kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can think of a few ways,” he said, and with a glint of his eyes, bent down to suck a matching purple bruise on the curve of Osamu’s neck. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>inspired by <a href="https://twitter.com/llolll_lllol/status/1247430683250712576">this art</a> and manon's hcs ♡</p><p>find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/kitaeun">twitter</a> and <a href="https://keijaes.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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